


Flying or Falling or Something

by treaddelicately



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treaddelicately/pseuds/treaddelicately
Summary: A collection of drabbles, short prompt fills, or ficlets that I've written for Clint and Darcy. Some of these come from Darcyland drabble races, some from moodboard inspiration, and some just because I can. Refer to the table of contents for summaries and ratings for individual drabbles.Updated 7/14/2020**22. Small Blessings - An incident in the lab brings Clint to Darcy's rescue.23. Farm AU
Relationships: Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 96
Kudos: 47





	1. Table of Contents

1\. Table of Contents  
2\. Humming - Darcy's happy and Jane takes notice.  
3\. Good Morning - Darcy wakes up in Clint's arms.  
4\. Anyone With Eyes - Pietro notices Darcy's dress and Clint does Not Like It.  
5\. Duty Calls - Darcy and Clint are interrupted.*  
6\. Cherry Bomb - Natasha and Darcy have some bonding time.  
7\. Bad Idea - Clint and Darcy are interrupted, _again_.*  
8\. Gimme Gimme - Darcy's got a hangover and Clint thinks it's hilarious.  
9\. Second Chances - Clint catches Darcy on a date.  
10\. My Shirt Now - Darcy needs to borrow a shirt.  
11\. Target Practice - Darcy gets bored watching Clint at the range.  
12\. Bubble Bath - Darcy needs to unwind after a bad day.  
13\. Camp Counselor AU*  
14\. Bounty Hunter/Criminal AU  
15\. Stormchaser AU  
16\. Tattoo Artist AU  
17\. Biker AU  
18\. Kiss on the Bicep  
19\. Kiss on a Tattoo*  
20\. Psychic AU  
21\. Waffle Fries - Clint brings Darcy something to brighten her bad day.  
22\. Small Blessings - An incident in the lab brings Clint to Darcy's rescue.  
23\. Farm AU

* indicates sexual content


	2. Humming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "Hooked on a Feeling" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

“What are you doing?” Jane’s voice sounded to her right and made Darcy startled and drop her pen. 

“Reading?” Darcy answered, confused.

Jane squinted at her. “You’re humming. You only do that when something really good’s going on, and I know your book isn’t that interesting.”

Well, shit. Apparently she really was that obvious. She tried not to smile but it broke free anyway.

“I’m just in a good mood, okay?”

“Does this have anything to do with you being late this morning? Or…” Jane reached over and brushed her hair aside, exposing the giant hickey Clint had left at the base of her neck the night before. “This?”

Darcy swatted her away, smile growing as she covered the mark with her hair again. “Maybe.”


	3. Good Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "Hooked on a Feeling" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

Sunlight hit Darcy in the face and she groaned, rolling onto her side. Rolling that way meant facing Clint, though, and as cute as he was when he slept, his morning breath wasn’t great when it hit her smack in the face.

Wiggling down the bed a little, she pressed her face into his chest instead and sighed happily when his arm draped over her waist. He was barely awake, she knew that for sure, and he wouldn’t be able to hear her even if she tried to talk to him, but his fingers traced patterns in her back and the lazy warmth was plenty right now.

“Love you,” he mumbled sleepily into her hair, and well, that was even better.


	4. Anyone With Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "Hooked on a Feeling" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

Pietro whistled and when Clint followed his gaze, his mouth fell open.

“Who knew Darcy had curves like that under all those sweaters?” He asked, and Clint seriously considered punching him for a moment. 

“Anyone with eyes,” he replied roughly, shoving off the table to go meet his girl. Darcy beamed at him, all happy blue eyes and red painted lips and Jesus, fuck, how had she even gotten in that dress?

“Hi. Sorry I’m late,” she said, curling her fingers in his shirt. “You look nice. Dressed up for Stark’s party?”

Clint snorted and pressed his hand into her back, using the grip to pull her in close. He could feel Pietro still looking at him and if the kid wanted a show, he could have one, but he probably wasn’t going to like it. “Nah, I dressed up for you.”

Darcy’s smile widened and melted him right to the floor. “I knew I loved you for a reason.”


	5. Duty Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "Cherry Bomb" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

“Fucking hell, Darce,” Clint groaned. Darcy whimpered and rolled her hips in response, grinding into him. Not. Enough. Friction. Why the fuck were they still wearing clothes, anyway?

Just as she was working her hands up under his shirt to rectify the situation, the alarms started going off. 

“No, no, no,” Clint groaned again, this time in agony as he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. Not only was he getting called out for a damn mission, but he was going to have to figure out a way to wilt his erection before the entire team got a good look at what he was packing.

“Duty calls.” Darcy smirked up at him, abandoning his shirt in favor of her own and revealing the lacy red bra underneath. “Guess I’ll just have to take care of myself while you’re gone.”

Oh, no way in hell was he getting out of bed now.


	6. Cherry Bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "Cherry Bomb" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

“Am I interrupting girls night?” 

Darcy looked up when the door opened, smiling wide enough that her eyes squinted. 

“Nope,” she said right at the exact moment that Natasha said, “Yes.”

She rolled her eyes at Natasha and nudged her with her foot, being careful not to smudge the nail polish that the spy was applying to her toes. “He is not. Come sit by me.”

“Yes, please do,” Nat said dryly, adding another coat to Darcy’s big toe. “But don’t expect a pedicure from me.”

Clint plopped next to Darcy on the couch, making her bounce a little. He slung his arm around her shoulders and eyed her toes. “I dunno, maybe I need a fresh paint job. What dumb name does that color have?”

“Cherry bomb.” Natasha smiled but it was deadly. “And if you put your foot in my face, you’re going to regret it.”

Darcy couldn’t help but laugh when Clint winced and withdrew his arm.

“I’ll leave you ladies to it, then.”


	7. Bad Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "Cherry Bomb" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

“Utility closet? Really, don’t you think that’s kind of.. Oh, God, _nevermind_.”

Darcy laughed into Clint’s neck, nipping at his pulse point again the same way just to hear him grunt again. His hands cupped her ass and kneaded firmly, setting her blood on fire. Sure, a utility closet quickie in the middle of the day was cliche, but who cared? She was a go-getter, and she was getting what she wanted.

Except then the door opened and they both tumbled backwards, blinking in the sudden light of the hallway.

“There you are.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “Darcy, Foster needs you. Clint, you’ve got lipstick on your neck.”

Darcy blushed, watching Clint wipe hurriedly at the smears of red she’d left all down his neck. Alright, maybe go-getting in a utility closet during work hours wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had.


	8. Gimme Gimme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "I Want You Back" from the Darcyland discord server drabble races.

“Noooo, why would you do that? Give it!” Darcy whined, stretching and reaching as far as she could without rolling off the bed. “That was my coffee.”

“I’m giving you incentive,” Clint said, sipping from her mug with his Smug Asshole voice. “Up and at ‘em, Darce.”

She groaned and buried her face in her pillow. Why, why, why had she let Jane talk her into tequila shots? Thor was like, over a thousand at this point anyway. Did he really need birthday parties anymore?

“Give it baaaaaack.” She lifted her head to pout at him. “Please? Please please?”

Clint sighed dramatically and leaned over to kiss her pouty lips and then held out her mug. “Only ‘cause you’re cute.”


	9. Second Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "I Want You Back" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Darcy glared at him, bite in her voice.

Clint shrugged. “Yeah, well, you’re not supposed to be with him.”

It wasn’t like Ian was paying her any attention anyway. That was the thing that pissed him off the most. Maybe he’d never been a stellar boyfriend, but he was a hell of a lot better than that idiot.

“Whose fault is that?” Darcy accused, her arms crossed. “I don’t want to be here with Ian, asshole. I wanted to be here with you.”

“Then just let me try.” Clint held his hand out, bandaged palm up, his eyes boring into hers. “Give me a chance to make it right.”

She hesitated and he thought for a second that she was going to tell him to go to hell, but then her hand closed around his, warm and soft, and he silently threw up a prayer of thanks for second chances.


	10. My Shirt Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "I Want You Back" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

Late, late, late. She was so late. Darcy jumped to wiggle her jeans over her hips, swearing repeatedly as she searched the floor for her sweater. This always happened when she stayed over at Clint’s. Clothes got shed everywhere and his apartment was a mess anyway. She’d lost so many cute blouses under his couch cushions and once, a pair of her panties had ended up on the windowsill. Like a damn flag to his neighbors.

Giving in to the chaos, she finally rummaged through Clint’s dresser and grabbed a t-shirt. It was a little big and it wasn’t entirely appropriate for a meeting with Pepper, but she probably had a cardigan in the living room she could throw over it.

“Looks good on you.” Clint grinned at her, still fitting his aids in as he sat up in bed. “But I’m gonna want it back.”

“You owe me a shirt anyway,” Darcy said, leaning over for a kiss and squeaking when he pulled her down with him. Alright, fine, she was already late. What was five more minutes anyway?


	11. Target Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "Moonage Daydream" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

Every single arrow had hit the target, like Darcy had predicted, but Clint wasn’t done. At the rate he was going, they were going to be at the range all night. And she had other plans, thank you very much.

“Are you about done?” She called over to him, putting on her best bored tone.

Clint pouted. “Aw, come on, you like watching me shoot.”

Darcy raised her eyebrows. “Been there, seen that. You got any other tricks up your sleeve?”

He looked thoughtful and she sighed. Christ, was she going to have to drag him out of here to get him home? Any other time, he’d jump the instant she insinuated she was ready to go home.

“I don’t know, let me check.” And then the motherfucker took his shirt off. “What do you think, still ready to leave?” 

Darcy settled in, watching his muscles bunch and tense as he nocked another arrow.

“I’m good to stay a little longer.”


	12. Bubble Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was "O-o-h Child" from the Darcyland discord server's drabble races.

Even though she had her headphones in and didn’t hear Clint come in, she could still feel him watching her. Darcy pulled one earbud out and tipped her head back, leaning it against the cool bathtub so she could see him. Upside down, leaning in the doorway.

“Rough day?”

“The roughest,” Darcy replied. “How could you tell?”

“Bubble bath was a big tip off. Want help making it better?”

She bit her lip. “Not really in the mood for that right now.”

Clint grinned and pushed off the door, kneeling behind the claw foot tub to put his hands on her shoulders. “Not what I was offering. Take your other earbud out.”

He went to town on her neck and shoulders, rubbing out all the tension leftover from her shit day at work. Dating an archer had plenty of advantages, but his hands were at the top of the list. Better than a bubble bath any day.


	13. Camp Counselor AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a moodboard for this ficlet, which you can find [here](https://taserhawk.tumblr.com/post/612252622203895808/clintdarcy-camp-counselor-au-if-i-get).

“If I get splinters in my back, I’m going to kill you,” Darcy threatened.

Clint’s breath was hot against her ear as he laughed, but then he nipped at the pulse in her neck and her irritation went out the window.

“You’re the one who kept licking marshmallow off your fingers,” he said, gripping her thighs in his hands to lift her up higher and using his hips to push her harder against the side of the cabin. On the other side of the building the campers were singing the camp theme song, nonsense about bears and team spirit. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“Not make up an excuse to sneak off and pin me to the Woodchucks’ cabin? If we get caught…”

His mouth found hers again and she sighed, tasting chocolate and graham cracker. The air smelled like campfire and the campers were still singing and they _really_ shouldn’t be doing this, but all Darcy could do was grab the back of his head and whimper as she kissed him harder. She was totally going to end up with splinters, but it was going to be so worth it.


	14. Bounty Hunter/Criminal AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a moodboard for this ficlet, which you can find [here](https://taserhawk.tumblr.com/post/612974417898831873/clintdarcy-bounty-hunter-criminal-au-seems).

“Seems to me like you’re a pretty shitty criminal to keep getting caught,” Clint said as he clicked the handcuffs around her wrists.

Darcy tipped her head back, a wicked smile on her red lips. He waited for the witty retort, but it never came. Huh. She’d been a hell of a lot mouthier the last time he saw her.

He’d already taken her taser and the gun in her waistband but did a quick check to make sure she wasn’t hiding anything else before grabbing her arm and pulling her down the sidewalk. His car wasn’t far and the sooner he got her into custody, the better. Natasha would kill him if she got away for a third time. Her bond was a huge chunk of change and they could both use the money, but at this point, it was almost a matter of pride for them both.

It was quiet until he opened the car door. Then Darcy leaned in close, close enough that her lips brushed the stubble on his cheek, just as he heard the metallic click and felt a weight around his wrist.

“Seems to me like you need better handcuffs.”

He blinked and jerked his wrist, secured by the cuff and connected to the door handle. Darcy smirked and held up her hands, waving them teasingly. Then she winked at him and ran, disappearing into a crowd of tourists on the other side of the street.

Natasha was going to _murder_ him.


	15. Stormchaser AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a moodboard for this ficlet, which you can find [here](https://taserhawk.tumblr.com/post/613150488075091968/clintdarcy-storm-chaser-au-darcy-threw-a).

Darcy threw a blanket around Jane’s shoulders, lingering to squeeze out some of the tension. It didn’t work. Jane only got louder, nearly knocking the blanket off as she gestured wildly.

“There are plenty of other tornadoes you can chase, that one was mine!”

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Oh you own the tornadoes now, Foster? Because last I checked, you didn’t even have enough money to put decent brakes on that tin can you call a vehicle.”

Another round of shouting started and Darcy sighed at the same time Clint did. She watched him push off the table and walk out the door. Curiosity got the better of her and she followed, leaving Jane to argue with Tony and Bruce.

Clint leaned on the railing of Erik’s front porch, arms crossed and resting against the wood. Darcy leaned next to him.

“That was stupid,” she said. “You could have been killed, running off like you did.”

He turned to her with an incredulous look, but his lips were parted in a grin. “Sweetheart, I do this for a living. I know the risks. And besides, you got the data you wanted, didn’t you?”

And they had. Jane had thought about running their equipment in herself but the storm had been so strong, the tornado too close, they hadn’t wanted to risk it. And then Tony’s team rolled up and poured out of shiny black vans like ants. A minute later, Clint had grabbed their equipment and ran like hell to set it up. Wasn’t like it was the first time he’d done it, either. Darcy was starting to think he had a soft spot for their ragtag team.

“We did.” She tilted her head. “Tony ever give you shit when you do that?”

Clint shrugged. He turned to face her and Darcy was suddenly very aware of the height difference, how he loomed over her and how his blue eyes softened when he smiled like he was telling her a secret. “Sometimes.”

“He’s gonna fire you one of these days. Then you’ll just have to come work for Jane and Team Good Guys.”

He laughed and it settled in her stomach, warm and comforting like a blanket. “Maybe. Doubt she’d pay me what I’m worth, though.”

Darcy winked at him and was rewarded when he grinned so wide his eyes squinted. “I’m sure we could work something out.”


	16. Tattoo Artist AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet has an accompanying moodboard, which you can find [here](https://taserhawk.tumblr.com/post/613979361622769664/clintdarcy-tattoo-artistflorist-au-darcy).

Darcy appeared in his booth in a rush, pushing the curtain aside and flopping into the chair dramatically. “Sorry I’m late. I had a late delivery, a bride wanted to complain about the size of her boutonnieres, it was just a nightmare.”

Clint chuckled as he swiveled on his rolling stool to grab a pair of gloves. Three sessions in and he was completely used to Darcy’s tardiness by now. It was one of the reasons he’d made her the last appointment of the day. She was always late and she was chatty, and neither of those were conducive to keeping their sessions at an appropriate length. He’d learned after the second time to just flip the closed sign and lock the door whenever she came by.

“S’fine, I know you can’t be on time to save your life,” he teased, making her roll her eyes. “Come on, pants off. Maybe we can actually finish this thing today.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and lifted her hips, shucking off her jeans to reveal the floral pattern up her right thigh. Clint took a moment to admire his own handiwork and how well the tattoo was healing, and then maybe an extra to linger on how gorgeous her pale skin looked against the plain black panties she had on.

“Hey,” Darcy said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Focus, dude. Color first, leering later.”

“It’s not leering if you’re encouraging it.” Clint felt inclined to point it out, considering they’d been sleeping together since the night _before_ he started tattooing her.

She laughed and grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him in for a kiss. The angle was all wrong with the arms of the chair in the way, but her tongue slid over his and she made this little noise in her throat and Clint didn’t really care about the angle anymore. Maybe they wouldn’t finish up her tattoo today after all.


	17. Biker AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet has an accompanying moodboard, which you can find [here](https://taserhawk.tumblr.com/post/614847725057572864/clintdarcy-biker-au-the-world-came-back-into).

The world came back into focus as the bike came to a stop and the steady roaring in Darcy’s ears stopped. Clint held it still for her so she could climb off and she handed her helmet to him with a grin.

“How’s my helmet hair?”

“You look real cute,” he told her, steadying the motorcycle on the stand and hanging their helmets on the handlebars. “Just like always.”

It was cheesy and dumb and the smirk on his face should have made her roll her eyes, but then he was crowding her with his big hands smoothing down her flyaways. His rough palms, freed from the fingerless riding gloves he always wore, traveled down her neck, over the swells of her breasts and tracked the curves of her sides before settling on her hips to tug her in close.

“Always, huh?” Darcy looped her arms around his neck. “Keep talking like that and I’ll start thinking you like me or something, Barton.”

Clint laughed, a low and husky sound that rumbled in his chest. “Maybe a little.”

And then he dipped his head and kissed her, long and slow, taking away any of her doubts about his feelings for her. 

They stayed like that for a while until Darcy’s lips were swollen and her calves ached from standing on her tiptoes for so long. Clint took the hint and released her to grab a rolled blanket strapped to the back of his bike. He spread it out under a nearby tree and they sat together, Darcy tucked between his legs with her back against his chest.

“How long do we got?” he asked with his face tucked into her hair. 

Darcy leaned her head back against his shoulder with a sigh. “Two hours, maybe. Mom said she was off patrol at eleven.”

And if police chief Anne Lewis arrived home to find her precious baby missing, all hell was bound to break loose. Forget the fact that Darcy was twenty-one years old and plenty capable of making her own decisions, including where she wanted to go and who she wanted to date.

Clint hummed and brushed her hair aside with his nose so he could kiss the pulse in her neck. If he’d kept his lips there, he would have been able to feel it quicken in response, but he was too busy whispering in her ear.

“She hates me, doesn’t she?” 

Darcy shrugged. “It’s not you, it’s SHIELD in general. She hates motorcycles, hates the club lifestyle, hates that you guys… I don’t know…”

“Do her job better than she does?” Clint offered, and she could hear the grin in his voice. She elbowed him in the ribs with an exaggerated sigh and made to stand up, but he dragged her back down. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. I don’t wanna talk about your mom.”

She tipped her chin back to peek at him with one eye, squinted in suspicion. “What do you want to talk about?”

The look he gave her could only be described as heated. “I don’t really wanna talk.”

And then he kissed her again, and Darcy didn’t care much about talking, either.


	18. Kiss on the Bicep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by BoudicaMuse for kiss prompts on tumblr - "kiss on the bicep"

“You scared her!” Darcy clutched Luna tight to her chest, petting the back of her head until she started to purr. “Poor baby. Clint was mean to you, wasn’t he?”

“Mean to her?” Clint’s voice was doing that high-pitched, incredulous thing. Like when she called him out on leaving his socks under the coffee table. “Darcy, I’m the one bleeding here.”

And he _was_ , but he didn’t have to be such a drama queen about it.

With a sigh, Darcy bent over and let Luna hop down from her arms. The cat made her little _brrp_ noise and sauntered off with her tail in the air, probably to go curl up with Lucky. She liked to lay by his feet and play with his tail.

“I told you a cat was a bad idea,” Clint said. He was pouting, clutching his right bicep with his left hand. “I’m wounded.”

Darcy rolled her eyes but dutifully walked over to inspect the damage. A bright red line ran from his shoulder midway down his arm, curved slightly at the end where Luna must have launched herself from her perch.

His pout grew more pronounced until Darcy heaved a sigh and grabbed his arm, leaning in to kiss just beside the scratch. His bicep bulged under her mouth, like he was flexing. Which he probably was, the big show-off. “Better?”

“Almost,” Clint said, pulling her close by her belt loops. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I think I got a few more scratches. Under the clothes. You’ll have to do a full inspection.”

Laughing, Darcy shoved away from him. “Not a chance, dude.”


	19. Kiss on a Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by scarletnerd05 on tumblr - "kiss on a sfw body part (tattoo)"

It was really Clint’s fault that he never saw it before. Somehow, every time he managed to get Darcy out of her clothes they were in a hurry. Or in the dark. Or sometimes he just didn’t get her out of her clothes at all.

He blamed the skirts she wore for her weekly meetings with Pepper and the way they hugged her ass like a second skin. What guy wouldn’t want to take his girl into the nearest empty office and hear her moan his name after seeing that?

Well. Truth be told, she wasn’t really _his_ girl. She was Darcy and she wasn’t anyone’s but her own, but that didn’t stop Clint from trying. Heated encounters around the Tower were enough until they weren’t and finally, finally he managed to talk her into an actual date.

Light on the date part. Because after twenty minutes of Darcy running her foot up his leg under the table of the restaurant, Clint all-but carried her out to get her back to his place. Not in the dark this time, either. He made a point to flip every light on in the place while he lead her up to his bed.

Which, of course, got Lucky’s attention. He started to do his potty dance and whine at the door around the time Darcy’s shirt was coming off. 

“Wait here,” Clint said, delivering another long sucking kiss to her mouth to keep her interested. “I’ll be right back.”

Lucky took for-fucking-ever and tried to get flirty with a Pomeranian from downstairs, but finally Clint managed to drag him back to the apartment. He was out of breath by the time he climbed back up the stairs to the loft, but the sight that greeted him was well fucking worth it.

Darcy had taken matters into her own hands and removed the rest of her clothes. She sat leaned back against his headboard with a smug little smile, crooking her finger for him to come closer, and he obliged without a second thought.

Something caught Clint’s eye as he settled on top of her, a splash of black against her creamy skin. He nudged her leg flat against the mattress to inspect. A tiny bird sat atop her hipbone, dainty and not something he’d ever anticipated from Darcy.

“Tattoo?” he asked like an idiot, and she laughed. 

“A swallow. I got it my freshman year of college because I thought they were cute.”

With a wicked grin, Clint braced himself to kiss down her stomach. Darcy’s breathing hitched and he felt her belly tense, her fingers scrabble for purchase in his hair the closer he got to her mound. He changed course, though, dropping a light kiss over the bird on her skin.

He wasn’t sure what other secrets her body held, but he had plenty of time with her in his bed now and he intended to figure it out.


	20. Psychic AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a moodboard made by the lovely BoudicaMuse for this ficlet, which you can reblog on tumblr [here](https://taserhawk.tumblr.com/post/616665835295080448/clintdarcy-psychic-au-so-let-me-get-this). This was inspired completely by her moodboard, as she asked me to write a little something for it for our Taserhawk blog! :D

“So, let me get this straight.” Clint hissed through his teeth as Darcy pushed the towel harder against his eye. “You knew I was going to get hurt?”

She didn’t meet his gaze even though it was burning into the side of her head. At least she could blame the lack of eye contact on focusing on mopping up the blood running down the side of his face.

“Yeah, I mean… I didn’t know _how_ exactly, but I had a feeling it would happen.”

“Because you’re psychic.” It wasn’t a question, it was a mockery. He thought she was being ridiculous.

Darcy’s eyes slid to Clint’s and fixed him with an annoyed glare. “I never said I was psychic.”

“That’s what you told Cap two weeks ago. Right before that ambush in Manila. I almost got my head taken off in that fight.” 

She’d _tried_ to tell them. Steve had brushed her off for days before they left, ignoring her gentle hints that something was going to go wrong on their little recon mission until she’d finally exploded and told him that if he didn’t listen, someone would seriously get hurt. Because she could feel it.

It wasn’t new, not exactly. She just got these gut feelings sometimes. Ones that told her when she might need a raincoat or maybe to apply for a random internship with an astrophysicist. Like the universe was looking out for her a teensy bit. 

And now it was making her look out for Clint, apparently. 

“You almost got your head taken off today,” Darcy pointed out as she pulled the towel away to check his wound again. Not as bad as it looked, considering the hit he’d taken from some evil robot’s metal knuckles. “It’s not exactly like it’s a rare occurrence for you.”

Clint shrugged and then winced. Probably bruised all over, but unless he needed a cut cleaned up on his abs, she wasn’t about to ask him to take his shirt off. No matter how much she wanted to see his body up close. It seemed like a bad idea to start getting mixed in with a guy that fate kept trying to tell her was going to get himself killed. 

“But you still waited here for me,” he said, lips curving up into a grin that warmed Darcy up and melted her all over like ice cream in the sun. “You hung around with bandages and crap. So either you’re psychic or you just wanted an excuse to get me out of my clothes.”

The gentle warming transformed into a burning heat that spread from Darcy’s collarbones up to her cheeks. She took a step back and threw the bloody towel at Clint’s face.

“Get over yourself, Hawkeye.”

He was still chuckling when she turned on her heel to go. Asshole. Maybe next time the universe tried to warn her that Clint Barton was in trouble, she’d roll over and go back to bed.


	21. Waffle Fries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint brings Darcy something to brighten her bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the kiss prompt "a kiss in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference" given to me on tumblr.

It’s not by accident that he finds her in the stairwell. In fact, in the months since they packed up shop and moved operations to the upstate compound, Darcy’s made a habit of hiding out between the fifth and sixth floors when she’s having a bad day. Which is why Clint brings waffle fries from the downstairs cafeteria, too, and a cup of that garlic aioli she likes so much. 

“I already ate lunch,” Darcy says when he sets the bag down on the step next to her. She’s picking at her cuticles and her hair is tucked into a low bun at the base of her neck, two surefire signs that the day has been worse than he was thinking.

Course correcting in his mind, Clint shrugs and sits two steps below her. 

“Just fries. Thought you could use the pick me up after the SOS text you sent earlier.”

Most days, she loves working for Jane. Watching them from afar reminds him of his relationship with Natasha, strangely. Movements in sync, communicating with perked eyebrows and pursed lips, the familial affection and irritation. Irritation that sometimes boils over into anger.

Today, she’s angry with Jane for one thing or another. Clint’s too tired from training to pry and Darcy doesn’t seem ready to cough it up anytime soon, so the stairwell it is. He shifts a little to lean his head against her knee and she pets his hair, her nails dragging along the back of his neck.

“I think I’m gonna take the afternoon off,” she announces a few minutes into the petting, just when Clint’s gotten all warm and comfortable and half-asleep against her leg. “She _obviously_ doesn’t need me in there, so-”

“Foster needs you,” he interrupts, lifting up to roll his eyes purposefully where she can see it. “She’ll call you tonight and you two’ll talk it out. Worse, she’ll _show up_ at our place. I swear she’s got radar for when I’m taking your clothes off.”

Darcy smiles, unfurling a victory flag in his gut. 

“It’s not radar,” she says. “You’re just always trying to take my clothes off. Odds are stacked in her favor that way.”

“You make a fair point.” Clint climbs to his feet and offers his hand, pulling Darcy up with a grin. “I’ve got the afternoon off, too. So if you’re playing hooky...”

Her hands plant on his shoulders and it’s funny, having her at eye-level when he’s so used to looking down at her pretty blue eyes. Staring her straight in the face makes her plump lips even more distracting than usual and suddenly Clint’s making a bulleted mental list of all the ways he can improve her day behind a closed door.

“Yeah, okay,” Darcy says with a quiet sigh. She leans in the short distance and it’s weird, kissing her without having to bend over, but only for a moment until his brain checks out and it’s all muscle memory from there. He curls his fingers into her waist and sucks on her bottom lip the way she likes and if the little noise in her throat is any indication, the list won’t take long to get through at all.

“But,” she mutters against his mouth, undeterred by his repeated attempts to keep kissing her, “I want those waffle fries first.”

Clint laughs and takes a step up, ruining the perfect balance and gaining the height advantage again. It’s cute, actually, the way she gets all pouty about it. He scoops the crumpled bag up and drops another kiss to her dramatically pronounced lip just to feel her smile when he does. 

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want.”


	22. Small Blessings

It didn’t happen in slow motion. Not that it happened fast, either. Darcy caught the whirring noise just as it started and the acrid smell of something burning filled her nose. All the time spent with Jane’s janky equipment and her proclivity for hand-waving a little melted rubber in the name of science set off her _oh shit_ sensors, but by then it was too late.

The lab had already exploded.

Fifteen seconds, or maybe fifteen minutes or two hours later, Darcy came to with a ringing in her ears and pain all down her right side. The burning smell from before surrounded her now, filling her nostrils and lungs and gagging her. Sour and burnt, the most confusing combination, and she couldn’t even sort it out for the pounding in her head.

“Hey, I’ve got her! She’s over here!”

Her concussion must have been worse than she thought because then she was hallucinating. It was the only explanation for the strong pair of arms that plucked her off the ground and the warm shoulder that ended up as a pillow for her head. Even the sickly scent was mostly gone, replaced by familiar spicy aftershave.

The world spun and Darcy groaned. 

“What… the _fuck_?”

“Hang on, Lewis. We’re gonna get you to the med bay and get you checked out.”

Through the rhythmic thumping at the base of her skull and the haze of smoke all around, Darcy peeked her eyes open enough to look up at her rescuer. And of all the fucking luck, of course it was Clint Barton’s eyes staring back at her.

No wonder the aftershave smelled familiar. She’d only been sneaking ways to get close to him for weeks just to get a whiff. Here was her big chance, and all Darcy could think was _laugh it up, universe, you mean old bitch._

“We already got Foster out,” Clint muttered as he carried her through the ruined lab. “She’s alright, one of the techs jumped in front of her and took the brunt of it…” 

He was still talking, but she didn’t need to hear any more. Jane was safe and breathing, which was enough for now. Well, almost enough. Something for her wicked headache and a nice once over by Stark’s doctors to make sure she hadn’t like, burst her spleen open would be great.

God, why was he still talking? Did he always babble when he was doing heroic things? Maybe from the outside looking in it would be cute, but right now? Way too much.

“Hey Clint?”

His pace slowed and she felt rather than saw his eyes boring into her face, likely scrutinizing for further injury or evidence that she was ready to hurl all over him.

“What’s the matter? You think something’s broken?”

“No, I just really need you to shut up.”

He laughed, low and throaty and warm and _relieved_ , and again Darcy was struck by the unfairness of it all. She’d gotten a laugh out of her ultimate dumb superhero crush, was quite literally curled in his wonderfully gigantic arms, and all she could do was lay there like a limp noodle and tell him to shut his pretty mouth. 

Whatever. At least she had the excuse of a head injury for later. She closed her eyes to hide the embarrassment and turned her face into his shoulder to breathe in that aftershave again. For now, she might as well enjoy the small blessings she could get from the universe.


	23. Farm AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a moodboard for this ficlet, which you can reblog on tumblr [here](https://taserhawk.tumblr.com/post/623542863965323264/clintdarcy-farm-au-opening-the-back-door-and).

Opening the back door and stepping into the sweltering heat was enough to knock the breath out of her, but Darcy braved it to carry the glass across the yard. She had to tiptoe around the sawhorse and piles of lumber, but she made it without spilling a drop.

“That for me?” Clint asked around a mouthful of nails. 

Darcy nodded, proud of herself for looking at his face when she was close enough to see the sweat beading on his collarbones. “Thought you could use some fluids.”

He dropped the hammer and spit the nails into a bucket on the end of the sawhorse and then flashed her a cocky grin. That same one he gave her every time he pulled his holier-than-thou bullshit or happened upon one of her many disastrous attempts at keeping Aunt Ruth’s farm up and running.

“Concerned about my well-being? I’m touched, Miss Lewis.”

She scowled. “I told you, it’s just Darcy. I’m not a kindergarten teacher.”

There was no witty retort because Clint was too busy gulping down the lemonade she’d brought him. He drank it so enthusiastically that some liquid spilled over the rim of the cup and down the side of his face. Darcy watched, transfixed, as it ran over the stubble on his jaw and down his neck. 

She wondered how it would taste if she licked it from his skin, tangy and salty where it mixed with his sweat.

“Maybe not, but small town’s still getting to you. I mean, look at you, being all polite and bringing me a drink,” he said, smacking his wet, pink lips before they curved into a smile.

That smile that had probably dropped a considerable amount of panties around town. If he wasn’t working so hard to irritate her, Darcy might have considered adding hers to the pile. 

“I just don’t want you to die of a heat stroke on my property. Especially not before you finish my chicken coop. Which I paid for in advance, by the way,” she reminded him, taking the glass before he could set it down and potentially lose it amid the sawdust and power tools.

“I gave you a discount,” Clint shot back. “Can’t be taking advantage of helpless city girls who don’t even know their way around a feed store.”

“Helpless?” Darcy squinted at him. Maybe she’d needed help picking out feed, and finding someone to drive a trailer to haul hay bales for her, and maybe she’d let the pigs escape once or twice. But she was far from _helpless_. 

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Just don’t know if you’re cut out for—” He sputtered, apparently shocked out of the insult when a cupful of half-melted ice cubes and lemonade hit him in the chest. “Hey, what the hell?”

She smirked, shaking the empty glass at him. “You still looked pretty warm to me. I was just helping you cool off. It’s _polite_ , isn’t it?”

And then she stalked back to the house, muttering under her breath the entire way. _Helpless city girl_. Well, fuck that. She could run this farm on her own. And Clint Barton was just going to have to keep coming around so she could prove it to him.


End file.
